


Something Supernatural this Way Comes

by AnagramRMX



Series: The Power of Three (Plus Two) [1]
Category: Charmed, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Family, Gen, Winchester bros are Halliwells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnagramRMX/pseuds/AnagramRMX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Manor has been a little off since Grams died, but when Phoebe returns, strange, magical things start happening, which wouldn't be a big deal if Dean and Sam hadn't been hiding the life of hunting from their cousins, and of course if they could control their new powers.</p>
<p>Or: The first episode of Charmed if Dean and Sam were Halliwells</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Supernatural this Way Comes

**Author's Note:**

> Certain scenes have been omitted to focus on the Halliwell-Winchesters and such, but have been more or less implied through conversations with Andy and Prue and on TV. I’m going to assume that anyone reading this has seen the pilot episode of Charmed. Brief recap if you haven’t: Andy and Darrel are off trying to catch a man killing witches, who happens to be Jeremy. Also, sort of extreme liberties taken with the timing of each scene, because things seem really stretched to me.  
> Also, little warning: I haven’t written much for Supernatural before, so my Dean and Sam need a little work. My Dean is going to be especially bad for the first five episodes, because he’s the one that’s freaking out about getting his powers the most, but please bear with me until I get it settled. Sam I think I have leveled for right now, but he’s not going to have as many issues with the rage monster in his chest until Jess dies.  
> Additional Warning: It took me months to write just the chapters I’m posting within the next few days. I have plans for the future chapters, but I can’t promise I’ll update any time soon. Good news: since its episode based, I don’t ever leave off on a cliffhanger, or without the current plot being finished. But still, long time between updates.
> 
> Either way: Hope you enjoy this series. I know there are a million of them, but I’m going to try and be original in my approach. Please review if you like it or not. I need the criticism since I haven’t posted in three years.

There was rain pattering outside the old red house as Piper Halliwell skittered up the front steps in the rain. There was the rumble of thunder in the distance, and as she looked up the walk, she could see the silhouette of a young boy staring out the window nervously, but perking up as he saw her. Part of Piper sighed as she continued up, closing her umbrella as she reached the porch and the door swung open like she expected.

“There you are,” her fifteen year old cousin, Sam, sighed at her as she shoved her way through the door, looking up as the lights flickered a little. “Dean left to get Phoebe. Have you told Prue-“

Thunder rumbled as a look flashed into his older cousin’s eyes. He knew what that look meant, and it told him that they were all in trouble.

“Piper!” he blurted accusingly.

Piper hushed her voice as she hung up her umbrella and started to put down her bags. “Look, we still have time-“

“Yeah. Like an hour. No way she-“

“What are you two talking about in there?”

The two of them straightened up at hearing the voice, and immediately hushed. Piper put down her bags before sliding towards the next room.

“Prue?” She questioned, glancing nervously at Sam.

“In here, working on the chandelier.”

Hearing the world chandelier made Piper wince a little before she looked back at Sam, who just continued to look at her pointedly.

“Sorry I’m late,” Piper muttered, before starting into the main room with Sam behind her.

“What else is new?” questioned the woman standing on a ladder in the living room. Piper pursed her lips, trying to ignore her older sister’s annoyed tone. Prue looked away from the light fixture she was working on, down at her sister and cousin. “You know, I’d have been here to meet the electrician myself, but you know I can’t leave the museum until six. I haven’t even changed.”

Offhandedly, Sam interjected, “I could’ve let him in, you know.” Prue’s only response was to look at him and silently say _No Way._

Piper looked back up, drawing her sister’s gaze again. “Sorry, I just didn’t realize how long I was in Chinatown,” she said. “Did Jeremy call?”

“No, but he had some roses and a package delivered,” Prue responded, pointing towards the dining room table. As Piper started in that direction, Prue’s face twisted a little in confusion. “What were you dong in Chinatown? I thought you had an interview in North Beach.”

“I did, but I had to go to Yung Lee Market to get the ingredients for my audition recipe tomorrow,” Piper said walking into the dining room, looking appreciatively at the flowers on the table as her sister and cousin followed her.

Sam made a face. “You mean that idiot didn’t hire you today?”

Piper winced a little again, before looking at the youngest Halliwell as she unwrapped the package her boyfriend had sent her. “No. But this,” she started, before pulling out the bottle, “just might get me the job.”

While Sam only looked at the bottle curiously, Prue’s face lit up. “Jeremy sent you Port?”

“It’s the ultimate ingredient for my recipe,” Piper said lightly, looking at the bottle.

“Nice boyfriend,” Prue said.

Again, Sam made a face. He wasn’t fond of his cousin’s boyfriend, and certainly wasn’t fond of how she was ogling  at the flowers he had sent. He was more than happy when Piper’s eye caught on the spirit board lying on the other side of the table and her face lit up.

“Oh my god. I don’t believe it. Tell me that’s not our old spirit board…”

The others smiled as she looked at it, and followed her as she rounded to the seat where the Ouija board sat. “Yeah,” Sam said brightly. “Prue found it while she was looking for a circuit tester downstairs.”

Piper smiled over at him before looking down to the board where an inscription was written clearly on the back. “To my three beautiful girls, may this give you the light to find the shadows. The power of three will set you free, love Mom…” she trailed off before looking back at the other two. “We never did figure out what this inscription meant…”

“Well, we should send it to Phoebe. That girl is so in the dark, maybe a little bit of light would help.”

Piper and Sam both froze as the oldest Halliwell said her youngest sister’s name with such malice. Sam winced a little, always having hated it when the family was fighting.

“You’re always so hard on her,” Piper said, looking at the table tensely as she set the board back down.

“Piper, the girl has no vision,” Prue said flatly. “No sense of the future…”

“I really think she’s coming around,” Sam muttered, looking at the table too.

“Well, as long as she doesn’t come around here I guess that’s good news,” Prue responded, before turning and going back to the chandelier.

Piper looked to her cousin as he looked away from the table, and silently communicated to her that they really needed to tell her already. Piper looked away again, and moved to put away her ingredients.

Sam sighed a little, and moved to follow Prue to see if he could help with the chandelier,

None of them, of course, noticed as they passed the pointer on the spirit board was slowly gliding across the triquetra in the middle of the board.

 

(-:-)

 

Life in the Halliwell household had always been a little complicated.

With five kids running around and only Grams in charge, a lot happened at the Manor. If Prue and Phoebe weren’t fighting, Dean was getting in trouble at school. If Piper wasn’t freaking out about going to school after something awful had happened, someone had played a trick on Sam that needed to be dealt with before the youngest boy got a persecution complex. Really, they all loved each other like siblings, but things had always been chaotic when their Grams was alive. Things had only gotten worse when she died.

It was really just bad circumstances that landed them there at all. The girls had been put in their grandmother’s care when their mother, Patty, drowned in ‘79. Phoebe had barely been three at the time, and had never known her mother. She’d always been a bit of a wild child that drove her eldest sister crazy. Piper, the middle child, had been the designated peace keeper and Grams’ little helper. Prue was eight at the time, and had been forced to help take care of her sisters, and later cousins. The fact that their father left them a few weeks later didn’t help matters.

Four years later, Sam and Dean moved in as well when their mother, Mary, died in a fire. Sam had only been six months old, so the manor was the only home he'd ever known, with Grams and Prue being the closest thing he had to normal parents. Dean was four at the time, and had taken it upon himself to be everyone’s protector after that. He insisted on taking care of Sam and his cousins, even though Prue was already a teenager. Their father, John, was around every now and again. He came home for some major holidays and the boys’ birthdays, and had been taking Dean Hunting every summer since he had turned thirteen. Dean idolized him, but he still hadn’t been around enough to have raised his boys like their grandmother had.

So, the fifteen years all of them had cohabited the manor, things were a little complicated.

The past six months had been even worse.

When their Grams had died, their odd little family unit was shaken up even more than it had been before. Phoebe left to live in New York mere hours after the funeral. Prue called off her engagement and Piper quit her job somewhere along the way. Dean had come home from rambling with his father to help with Sam, despite the fact that he was always itching to get back out.

And Piper knew it was only going to get worse when her younger sister returned tonight.

She let the drapes fall back into place and started back into the front room, trying to think of how to break the news to the eldest of the five cousins, and the only one that did not already know that Phoebe Halliwell was coming back to San Francisco.

“I don’t get it,” Prue grumbled, flipping various switches at the breaker box in the laundry room. “I’ve checked everything. There is no reason why the chandelier shouldn’t be working.”

Piper took a deep breath, scratching her head, trying to think of how to say this. “Um, you know how we were talking about Phoebe earlier, right?”

Prue knitted her brow, looking at her sister. "Yeah, why?” she grumbled, starting to move back towards the kitchen. Piper followed close behind. Sam walked into the room at the same time, going towards the fridge like any normal hungry teen. He raised an eyebrow at Prue as she walked past him, obviously in a bad mood, and then looked at Piper.

“Ah, well, you know, she’s pretty good with a wrench, and you obviously have a lot to fix around here, maybe…maybe she could help out.”

Sam’s eyes bulged as he realized the topic of conversation, and immediately started to turn around. Tragically, his escape was blocked by Prue as she walked towards a drawer on the other side of the kitchen island.

The eldest Halliwell made a face. “And so is Dean, but unlike Phoebe, he has a job, and he doesn’t live in New York. Speaking of which where is-“

“Not anymore.”

Prue turned around when she heard this, and Piper looked at the fridge where Sam was trying to disappear after what he’d just blurted.

“What?” Prue asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam looked up tentatively. “Ah…Phoebe doesn’t live in New York anymore. Dean is picking her up from the bus station right now.”

Piper looked up nervously, and smiled a little in fright, confirming what Sam had said. “She’s moving back in with us,” she confirmed.

“You have got to be kidding!” Prue blurted, immediately stomping away from the drawer and past both of the slightly frightened family members in the room. Piper looked over at Sam, making a face before starting to go after her sister, Sam shortly behind her.

“It isn’t like I could tell her no!” Piper protested, trying to keep up with her. “It’s her house too. Grams willed it to all of us.”

“Yeah, months ago, and we haven’t seen or spoken to her since!”

“Well, _you_ haven’t spoken to her,” Piper sighed, making it obvious to her older sister that she was the only one putting a block on communication with Phoebe. In fact, Piper had called at least once a week since Phoebe had run off to the other side of the country. Dean and Sam hadn’t called quite as much, but Sam missed having his cousin around. Dean always had something to rave about that he couldn’t talk to the rest of them about, so Phoebe still wound up being his outlet. He in particular had always been close with Phoebe, which was understandably why he was the one out right now picking her up.

“No, I haven’t,” Prue responded loudly. “Look, maybe you’ve forgotten why I’m so mad at her!”

Piper sighed, and Sam stood behind her warily, not saying a word.

“Well of course not,” Piper sighed, waving her arms in a flustered motion. “But she had nowhere else to go, she lost her job, she’s in debt-“

“And this is news?!” shouted Prue. She took a breath before looking between the two sitting there. “How long have you all known about this anyway?”

Piper looked away. Sam shrugged, wincing a little. “A couple of days?”

Prue arched her brows, begging the question of whether he was telling the truth.

Sam looked at the ground. “Maybe week…”

Prue looked at Piper. “Maybe two,” the woman responded, sounding guilty.

A glare was given to them both. “Thanks for sharing. When does she arrive?”

Just then, there was the sound of a slamming car door outside, and someone was laughing. Prue knitted her brow, and turned to the door just as a couple of shadows fell across the window, and Phoebe Halliwell stumbled through the doorway with her leather-clad, nineteen-year-old cousin Dean right behind her.

“Man Pheebs, it’s good to have you back,” the boy was laughing, completely unaware of what was going on in the house.

Prue’s jaw tensed and Piper only looked more nervous.

Sam, though, immediately grinned, and ran towards where Phoebe and Dean had come in. “Phoebe!” he blurted, running up and hugging her.

The ex-New Yorker grinned, and dropped the duffle bag over her shoulder to wrap her arms right around the boy. “Sam! Oh, jeez, how many inches have you grown since I left?”

“Damn kid’s been growing like a weed,” Dean laughed, before looking up, and letting the smile fall from his face as Prue’s icy gaze passed him.

Piper smiled as brightly as she could, stepping from around Prue to greet her little sister, and give her a hug as Sam let go. “Phoebe, welcome home,” she said, looking back at Prue. “It’s so good to see you, isn’t it, Prue?”

“I’m speechless,” responded the eldest sister. Phoebe caught her eye, and the bright smile on her face dimmed just a bit.

Within a few moments, silence had fallen upon the cousins, and Dean was looking between the estranged sisters warily. “Ah…Piper! I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since lunch, you think maybe…”

Piper looked at him like he was nuts for a few moments before catching on. He wanted out of the conversation and quick. “Right!” she blurted, feeling the same issue. “Ah-let’s see what’s in the kitchen.”

They hurried out of the room, Dean catching Sam by the shoulder, and quickly shutting the door behind them as they knew that Phoebe and Prue were about to have some kind of show down they did not want to see.

Piper sighed a little, looking over at her cousins as they glanced nervously at each other.

“You didn’t tell her?” Dean asked as if it were all her fault.

“ _I_ didn’t tell her?!” Piper responded, her voice as quiet as it could be while she was defending herself. “Why was it my job?”

“Because you’re actually her sister,” Dean pointed out. “C’mon Piper…”

“Dean, it isn’t Piper’s fault,” sighed Sam. “We all knew this was going to happen. You already moved all your stuff into the basement because we knew Phoebe was coming back.”

Piper sighed, pressing her ear to the door, making a face when she heard Prue flatly say that she was still furious with her. Dean looked at her curiously. “What’s going on in there?”

She cringed and looked back at him. “Not good, but they aren’t yelling yet…” she muttered.

Sam crept over to join her, pressing his ear to the door too. Honestly, private conversations were not to be expected in the manor. He almost recoiled immediately though when he heard the name “Roger” and Piper’s eyes widened.

Just the expressions on their faces made Dean’s eyes widen. “What? What’s going on?” he questioned, taking a few steps closer, only for Piper to push Sam back a few steps so she could burst through the door and intervene before Prue started screaming like the last time this had happened.

“Hey!” she said in false cheer. “You know, now that we’re all together, why don’t I make a fabulous reunion dinner?”

Sam froze in the doorway, Dean mere steps behind him. Prue just narrowed her eyes at Phoebe. The latter’s expression just looked disappointed.

“I’m not hungry,” Prue sighed before walking off.

Phoebe didn’t look after her as she picked up her bag and walked towards the stairs. “I ate on the bus.”

The middle sister pursed her lips sadly, and looked towards the boys as they looked after their cousins, and slowly crept into the room. They heard doors slam, and Dean grimaced.

“I guess we’ll try the group hug later,” he sighed. Piper just looked at him before walking back to the kitchen with the boys in tow.

 

(-:-)

 

Less than half an hour later, Phoebe strolled around her room unpacking as she stared at the TV. She had hoped that the reception she got would have been less frosty, but really she hadn’t expected any more than what she got. Prue had been furious with her for months for ‘trying to steal’ her ex-fiancé. She hadn’t of course, but Prue had always been happy to see the dark-side of her sister instead of the truth.

She turned to the news station she was watching as the reporter on channel 3 talked about a fatal stabbing that had occurred at an apartment complex downtown. Almost expectedly, there was a courtesy knock on the door before the three members of her family that actually had been happy to see her walked through. Dean was first, smiling at his cousin before Sam pushed back to go and hop onto the bed. Piper brought up the rear, carrying a tray of grilled cheese sandwiches and glasses of tea.

“Hey,” greeted Dean with his usual big grin.

“Hey,” responded Phoebe before looking at her sister with a thankful smile as she rolled onto the bed next to Sam. “Oh thank god, I am starving.”

Dean plopped down on the side of the bed as Piper carefully set down the tray. “We know,” she said, before she noticed Dean was making a face at the TV. She turned around to look, and smiled at the face on screen. “Hey. That’s my boyfriend, Jeremy…What happened?”

Phoebe giggled a little, reaching over to the tray at the same time Sam did. “Some woman got whacked,” she responded.

Piper crinkled her nose, but it was Dean that spoke around the sandwich in his mouth to say, “Whacked? You’ve been in New York too long…”

Phoebe sighed, looking at her nails. “I’m beginning to think I should’ve stayed…”

“Phoebe,” Sam blurted, swallowing his sandwich quickly. “Don’t say that. We’re all happy to see you.”

“But Prue isn’t,” Phoebe said, looking at him, then Dean and her sister. “Why didn’t you tell her I was coming back?”

Piper looked at her pointedly. “Oh no. It was not our job. You should’ve been the one to do it and you know it.”

Dean shrugged a little, managing to swallow his food before speaking this time. “’Sides, she would’ve changed the locks if she knew,” he said with a smile.

The youngest of the sisters laughed a little. “Yeah, you guys are right,” she responded, frowning a bit before looking back over. “It’s just hard to talk to her, you know,” she muttered. “I mean, she’s always acted more like she’s my mom than my sister…”

 “That isn’t her fault…” Piper muttered, though she didn’t continue as Dean and Phoebe gave her looks that dared her to continue that sentence. _She practically had to give up her own childhood to help raise us_. She’d been there for all four of them growing up, and she really had been a mother figure for Sam, as she’d been the only one old enough for Grams to trust her to take care of him when he was a baby.

“We know,” Dean said, laughing just a little in long suffering amusement.

“Hey, we were lucky she was so responsible,” Piper said. “We had it easy. All we had to do was be there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a mom anymore,” sighed Phoebe. “I need a sister.”

“Dude, legally, she is my mom,” Sam pointed out, putting his thoughts across easily. Phoebe laughed a little, although it was a little sad for everyone to think about. It shouldn’t have been Prue’s job and they knew it. Sam had a dad rambling around the country right now that should have been taking care of him, but who wasn’t, and when Grams died, it had defaulted to the sisters. Growing up, Prue had been Sam’s replacement mom, and Dean had forced himself to man up and fill the gaps that their father left empty

Seconds after he said it, there was a knock at the door and they all turned in surprise to see Prue standing there with a quilt. “Hey,” she said, holding up the blanket and setting it down hesitantly. “This was always the coldest room in the house.”

Part of Phoebe wanted to smile ironically at the mothering nature Prue still displayed, but she was cordial when she said, “Thanks.”

Prue looked awkwardly between her sisters and her cousins, feeling like she hadn’t been invited to a party that everyone else got to go to before turning around and walking away, leaving the other four in a brief awkward silence.

 

(-:-)

 

After the awkward half dinner the four had shared upstairs, Piper, Dean and Phoebe retreated downstairs while Sam finished up some homework in his room, ever the serious student no matter how much Dean made fun of him. Phoebe had of course noticed the Ouija board in the dining room and decided to be nostalgic and play around with it a little. Piper had readily agreed, happy to spend time with her sister, and Dean hesitantly joined them. They all remembered having spent creepy nights with the board when they were tweens. Phoebe had even convinced them to try out the odd spell or ‘ritual’ every now and then. Piper had just laughed at the novelty of it all back then, but Dean had quit all together when he had finally gotten old enough to go on hunting trips with his dad.

They made small talk as the three of them moved the pointer across the board, talking about Dean’s job as a mechanic, and what Phoebe had been doing in New York. Then the conversation turned to Piper and her boyfriend, who seemed to be doing all the right things.

“I’m glad to hear that you and Jeremy are still together,” Phoebe said brightly, not surprised when she heard Dean make a blanching noise. Phoebe laughed a little at how much like a little brother he and Sam were. Neither of the boys liked Piper’s boyfriend much, and were pretty vocal about it.

“Where did you meet him anyway?” Phoebe followed up.

Piper popped Dean in the arm before he could make a comment on that, but didn’t look up from the pointer. “We met in the hospital cafeteria the day Grams was admitted,” she explained. “He was covering a story, and I was bawling over a bagel. So he handed me a napkin.”

Phoebe glanced at Dean as he rolled his eyes. “How romantic,” she said dubiously.

“As a matter of fact it was,” Piper said in defense of her boyfriend. “The napkin had his phone number on it.”

Dean cringed again. “How is that romantic? That’s preying upon emotionally fragile family members.”

Phoebe giggled a little, and Piper looked back at the board as their hands moved over it. “Stop pushing the pointer,” Piper sighed at her little sister.

“I’m not touching it…”

“You used to always push the pointer,” Dean said, rolling his eyes a little, pointing at her with a forefinger as Piper took her hands from the board, grabbing the bowl of popcorn she’d made to walk towards the kitchen.

Phoebe looked at Dean and rolled her eyes a little before looking back to the board and calling after Piper. “Hey, I forgot your question,” she hollered after Piper. Dean quirked an eyebrow, and watched Piper walk away for a few moments.

“I asked if Prue would have sex with someone other than herself this year.”

At that, Dean made a face. Phoebe snickered.

“That’s disgusting!” the boy called after her.

But Phoebe just looked back at the board pointedly. “Please say yes…”

Dean wrinkled his nose as he put his hand back on the pointer, just in time for it to glide forcefully towards the A on the board.

The two cousins at the table ripped their hands away from the pointer in shock.

Phoebe’s eyes were wide as she started to breathe her sister’s name. Then it moved to the T with neither of them touching it. “Piper!” Phoebe blurted, looking up at Dean, whose jaw had clenched, and who looked just a little terrified of what had just happened. “Get in here!”

Piper started back into the room, concerned when she saw the looks on the two of their faces. “What?”

Then there was Prue’s voice. “What did you do now?”

Dean’s eyes were still glued to the pointer, but Phoebe and Piper looked back at their older sister.

“Me? I didn’t do anything…” Piper protested.

But Phoebe sputtered a little. “The pointer on the spirit board!” she exclaimed. “It moved on its own.”

Piper and Prue looked at them dubiously, but this time, Dean looked up, and saw the looks on their faces as clearly as Phoebe.

“Guys-this is serious!” he said harshly.

“It spelled A-T,” Phoebe insisted.

“Well did you push it?” asked Piper.

Phoebe looked exasperated at the question. “No!”

“You always used to push the pointer,” Prue responded.

“Listen to her! She’s telling the truth!” Dean blurted. “It just moved! Our fingers were barely touching the thing.”

“Look.” Phoebe said in her own defense, putting her hands back on the pointer, then looked at Dean hopefully, but the boy just kept staring. The pointer didn’t move. Prue sighed.

“Really you two, aren’t you a little too old for these jokes?”

Dean rounded on her furiously. Even he could admit that when they were kids, he and Phoebe had been pretty bad about playing tricks on the rest of the household, but Prue knew damn well that Dean did not make jokes about the supernatural (to the point where he’d yell at Phoebe if she tried). Moreover _he_ knew that this wasn’t a laughing matter, something he did _not_ want his cousins involved in. But, Prue and Piper were already walking away.

Suddenly, there was a scraping sound behind them, and Dean looked back to see that the pointer had jolted back and was now returning to its position at the letter T.

Phoebe yelped. “It did it again!”

Prue and Piper turned around, but it was Sam’s voice that really startled everyone. “What did what now?”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he looked back at his brother. “Sammy, go back upstairs.”

Sam made a face at Dean. “What? Why?”

Prue sighed as she crossed back, pushing past Sam. “It’s still on the letter T,” she said, smirking condescendingly.

“I said go back up-“

“No. What’s going on?!”

“I swear it moved,” Phoebe breathed as Prue walked away, telling Sam to ignore them.

Piper looked back at her sister. “Seriously guys, stop,” she said, just before Phoebe bounded back and the pointer skittered to the letter I. Sam looked away from Dean just in time to catch it too, and for his eyes to bulge at the sight.

“Dean!” he blurted, pointing.

Piper’s jaw had dropped at the sight.

“You saw that right?” Phoebe said pleadingly to her sister as Dean turned back around moving in front of Piper and Sam like a human shield.

“I…I think so…” Piper muttered, moving closer to Dean’s side too, a little shocked.

“We told you…” Dean growled before the pointer started moving again.

“Prue…Prue can you come in here a sec!” Piper blurted, getting shoved back a few feet as Sam struggled past the wall that was Dean, looking on in awe as the pointer got to the letter C.

“What is it now?” Prue sighed, walking back, her face straining with patience.

“I think it’s trying to tell us something,” Phoebe muttered, scrambling for an envelope that was somewhere on the table and a pen, and quietly writing the letters it had given them.

A-T-T-I-C

“Attic,” she read, turning the envelope around just in time for a bolt of lightning behind her, illuminating the room for a second before the house suddenly went dark.

Sam’s eyes went wide, and his hands shot out to find his brother in the dark. Prue looked around in confusion, and Piper was the first to speak.

“I’m getting out of here.”

She started to skitter out of the room without another thought, and Prue and Dean immediately yelled after her. “Oh come on,” Prue sighed.

“Piper!” Dean blurted. “Come back here.”

“Nope. I have seen enough horror movies to know that saying will get us killed!” Piper shouted back at them.

“No, leaving the group is what will get you killed,” Dean responded harshly, chasing after her and grabbing her wrist. “Piper, we’ve got to stay together. Trust me on this.”

“Don’t you think you’re over reacting to this?” Prue asked in annoyance as she followed the two. Sam had grabbed her elbow and was following her closely, a little startled by the events starting to transpire. “We are perfectly safe here.”

“No, we aren’t,” muttered Sam, knowing just like Dean did that this was _not_ a joking matter.

“Don’t say that!” Piper blurted at Prue. “The person that says that is always the first to die.”

“No the first person to leave the group is always the first to die,” Dean repeated, turning Piper so she looked at him. “Come on, Piper.”

“I’m not staying here!” Piper blurted.

Prue sighed. “It is pouring rain outside, there’s a psycho on the loose and where do you think you’ll go- Jeremy’s? He’s not even home!”

“So I’ll…I’ll wait in the cab until he gets home from work!” Piper blurted, shaking out of Dean’s grip to grab a jacket.

“Oh, that’ll be cheap.”

“Prue,” Piper growled, turning to look at her sister as intensely as she could, “I saw that pointer move!”

“No,” Prue sighed. “What you saw was Phoebe and Dean’s fingers pushing the pointer.”

“Excuse me?” Dean blurted indignantly, his lips curling back in a snarl.

“Come on, Dean!” Prue blurted, wheeling to look at him now. “You were always playing pranks, and this has really gone far enough. You’re freaking out Sam and Piper!” She looked back at her sister, and pulled Sam in front of her so she could look at them both. “There is nothing in that attic, you hear me? Phoebe and Dean are playing a joke on us.”

“No they aren’t!” Sam blurted. “Prue, we haven’t been able to get that door open ever! Not when Grams was alive, not when she died. Dean’s tried to pick that lock eighteen times since he got here! Hell, I tried to pick that lock! You called a handyman and he couldn’t get it open!”

“Hey, watch your language,” Prue said pointedly to her charge, before realizing that Piper had skittered off.

She was over by the phone, and trying to dial the number to Jeremy’s phone only to find that it didn’t do anything. “Great, now the phone doesn’t work!” she blurted, as Prue made her way over to Piper in annoyance.

“The power’s out!” Prue exclaimed, before sighing and looking around at the three of them. “Look, just go with me to the basement.”

Piper audibly gulped. “What?” she asked, as if that was in no way what she should be worried about right now

“I need someone to hold the flashlight while I check out the main circuit box,” Prue explained.

There was a moment of panic on Pipers face before she looked at Dean. “Dean will go with you!”

“The fuck I will,” Dean growled. “I’m getting a gun and you’re all holing up in the living room.”

Prue looked at her cousin in exasperation before Piper blurted something else as a light appeared behind her.

“Phoebe will go with you to the basement!” Piper tried again, pointing. “Won’t you Phoebe?”

“Nope,” the youngest sister sighed, pointing her flashlight at them then up the stairs. “I’m going to the attic.”

“Excuse me?!” Dean shouted at her. “Phoebe, do _not_ go up there!”

“Yeah, we already agreed,” said Prue.

“I am not waiting for some handyman to check out the attic and I’m certainly not waiting till tomorrow,” Phoebe said definitively. “I’m going now.”

“Phoebe!” Dean blurted. “What sounds sane about going to the place a spirit board spelled out?!”

She just kept walking though, and shouted down at them, “I’m going!” before disappearing around the banister.

Dean swore again, before grabbing him and Sam’s jackets. “Sam come with me,” he growled before going towards the door, hell bent on getting to his car for the contents of the trunk. Sam skittered after him devotedly. Prue rolled her eyes at everyone’s behavior and turned to head for the basement.

Piper made a face, and tugged at her hair before blurting, “Prue, wait!” and chasing after her. Dean was right, after all. Leaving the group was always a bad idea.

Phoebe on the other hand had already made it to the door to the attic. Moonlight was pouring down from the window at one end of the stairwell, and when Phoebe edged towards the old door, she felt the slightest bit of nostalgia. She could remember trying to get in here time and time again as a teenager. All of them had, and Grams had always smiled knowingly when they came back downstairs feeling dejected.

She brushed her fingers over the doorknob, giving it a try before gripping it and rattling it a little. The knob held tight, and the bolt lock didn’t move. She sighed a little, turning back, about to go back downstairs to see if she could find any tools to help her, but before she actually got back to the steps, there was a creak behind her, and she turned to see that the door had opened.

She shone the flashlight into the room, wide eyed with surprise to see a fair amount of furniture scattered around, and immediately, she turned back, starting in cautiously. Lightning flashed outside of the window as she stepped in, looking around. It was full of clutter, really. Old chairs, a dresser. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling that looked like it hadn’t been used in a while, and chairs were stacked on top of each other. An empty birdcage and an old bust also added to the clutter with a headboard and a dozen dusty old blankets to round it all out.

That was when Phoebe saw a light, and her flashlight redirected itself to see an old chest sitting by its lonesome in front of another window. She quietly stepped over to it, setting the flashlight down on a table nearby before opening the lid to find a dusty book sitting between several others.

The book on top was special, though, and as she reached in, she felt the apprehension that always came with something new, something exciting. It was heavy, and big enough that she had to hold it against her side as she closed the lid to the chest, and turned to use it as a seat. She quickly dusted it off, and looked curiously at the red symbol on the cover.

After glancing at it briefly, she opened the book, narrowed her eyes at the words on the first page.

“The Book of Shadows,” she read aloud, thinking over it for a few seconds before flipping the page, and continuing to read. The words called to her from the page, and she felt her apprehension grow as she read incantation.

“ _Here now the words of the witches,_

_The secrets we hid in the night._

_The oldest of Gods are invoked here._

_The great work of magic is sought._

_In this night, and in this hour,_

_I call upon the ancient Power._

_Bring your powers to this family._

_We want the power. Give us the power_!”

Nothing happened that she could see, but in her chest it felt like something was bubbling out of her heart, and she knew beyond reasoning that something was going on.

Something important was happening.

 

(-:-)

 

Dean cursed a little as he walked barefoot in the rain to where his baby was parked. The old Impala had been a gift from his dad a mere number of months ago, when Grams died. John had been nostalgic enough to come to the funeral, but after that he had taken off. He had asked Dean if he wanted to go with him on the road again, like he had been the past year, but Dean had known it would be a better idea to stay. The girls were going to have a hard time with the house, and they’d need help with Sammy. When he had told his father that, John had smiled, and clapped him on the shoulder proudly. He didn’t say why, but that night he left the keys in Dean’s room, with a note to take care of his brother.

What he hadn’t let the girls know, though, was that in the trunk of the car were all of the items his dad thought were necessary to accomplish this task. Shotguns, rock salt, pistols, books of exorcisms and flasks of holy water filled a false bottom in the trunk. John Winchester hunted monsters, searching for the thing that killed his wife. Dean had been hunting every summer with his father he could since he was ten, so he damn sure knew how to use the tools he was given

Sam, who followed close behind, keeping his hood drawn close to him as he watched dean pop open his trunk, looked at him warily. Sam hadn’t been on nearly as many hunts with their father, but he too knew exactly what everything was for, even if he didn’t like them.

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asked, keeping close to his brother.

“I don’t know, Sammy, but I’m gonna find out,” responded the older brother stiffly. He propped open the trunk before going for the flap that was supposed to cover a spare tire, but instead hid his arsenal. From the selection before him, he picked out a shotgun for him, and an iron rod for Sam, something inconspicuous that the girls wouldn’t get onto him for. Then, after handing his brother a flask of holy water, he glanced down at him, looking him in the eye. “Please Sam, when we go back in there, stay with the girls. Don’t freak them out if you ca-“

Sam sighed. “I know, Dean. I’ve been playing this game just as long as you have. Don’t let them know these things are real and we can take care of the rest…”

Dean smiled, and ruffled the fifteen-year-old’s dark hair, trying to take some comfort from it. He was the oldest boy, and he’d always taken his job protecting the others seriously, even extending to the supernatural being’s he had hoped the girls would never encounter.“Do you still have that prayer book in your room?”

Sam nodded.

“Good. Be careful, alright?”

Sam nodded again, and stepped back a little as Dean closed the trunk and they started back up the steps.

“Dean,” Sam started hesitantly as they neared the house again. “What…what if something does happen to them? Could we tell them…?”

Dean made a face at his little brother. “We’ll deal with that if it happens, Sammy,” he muttered, before opening the door and starting up the stairs where they could hear Piper and Prue talking.

They were just far away enough from the living room that they didn’t see the lights shining down from the chandelier, and couldn’t even start to predict what was going on.

 

(-:-)

 

Prue groaned as they crawled up from the basement. “What is wrong with this house?!”

“It’s old, Prue,” Piper sighed. “We’ll have an electrician come in the morning. What we need to worry about is what the hell is going on around here…”

Prue sighed as she headed for the stairs, not exactly eager to find out what Phoebe had gotten up to in the attic. “I already told you, Piper. Dean and Phoebe are playing a joke. I mean, great timing with the lightning cutting the power, but still, a joke.”

“Neither of them were touching it,” Piper said with conviction as she started up the stairs after Prue. “Really, think about it. Phoebe just got home. How could they have planned this in one night?”

“Dean picked her up from the station. They could have come up with it there…”

“Dean didn’t know you found the spirit board,” Piper protested. “Not to mention that he hates that thing. You know that. Remember that one time-“

“What time about what now?”

The girls spun around to see that Dean and Sam had gotten back inside relatively dry. Piper tugged Sam, who still looked nervous, to her side as Prue looked at Dean and glared when she saw the gun in his hand.

“Dean!” she blurted.

“What?”

“What the hell is with the gun?”

“I told you-“

“No. No-no. You are not having that in the house while I’m here!”

“How about no, Prue? I know you don’t exactly believe what we saw down there, but it’s real, and I want a gun. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, we might wanna make sure Phoebe isn’t going exorcist on us upstairs. Got it?”

The two elder siblings glared at each other, but Prue saw the logic in what he was saying, and sighed before heading up to the top flight where the attic was. Everyone was shocked when they saw the door ajar, and Phoebe sitting down at one end of the cluttered room reading a book. Sam clutched closer to Piper.

 "What are you doing?" Dean growled, his brow creasing when he saw the triquetra on the cover.

Phoebe didn't hear the tone in his voice, though, and looked up, smiling excitedly. "Uh, reading an incantation," she said, her voice shaking a little from the rush she had gotten with finding the book. "It was in this book of shadows, I found it in that trunk..."

"Let me see that..." Prue growled, stamping forward and taking the book from her.

Dean still looked angry though, the words _‘book of shadows’_ only pressing that the girls should not be involved in anything involving magic. "An Incantation?" he repeated. "What-"

"How did you get in here?" interrupted Sam, who was glancing around, seeming far more interested in the upstairs room he'd never gotten to see.

"The door just opened," Phoebe said, still smiling.

The eldest boy still wasn't letting his point go, though. "Phoebe, what kind of incantation? Huh?"

Phoebe turned to him, her eyebrows tilting confusedly, not entirely getting why he was this upset about it. It was cool. Why would he be freaking out? "It said something about there being three essentials of magic: timing feeling and the phases of the moon. If we were ever going to do this, now, midnight on a full moon, is the most powerful time..."

"This?" Piper chimed, not really getting it either. "Do what this?"

Phoebe's smile only widened. "Receive our powers..."

A lump made its way into Dean's throat. "What powers?" he choked out, only to be drowned out by Piper.

" _Our_ powers?"

She sounded exasperated. After everything had happened the past hour or so, she wanted nothing else weird to happen to her. "You included me in this?"

"No," Prue interrupted, sounding almost as upset as Dean was from the other side of the attic. "She included all of us. _Bring your powers to this family_. It's a book of witchcraft."

"Let me see-" Sam started, moving away from Piper for the first time, only for Dean to put his arm up and flatly declare that he wasn't going to touch it as thunder clapped outside.

"No." Dean's voice was rough, and obviously not in the mood to be ignored. "Witchcraft? You seriously just started reading out of the book like...Phoebe, what were you thinking?"

Phoebe raised her eyebrows defiantly, still not getting Dean's attitude about this. "What was I...Dean, you can't be serious! It's-"

"It's dangerous," Dean growled, grabbing the book from Prue before turning around and going to put the book in the chest. "Damn it, Phoebe. You shouldn't mess with this stuff..."

Phoebe opened her mouth to defend herself, but Prue decided right then to start with accusations. "Spirit boards, books of witchcraft. It figures all this freaky stuff started when you arrived..."

"Hey!" Phoebe blurted this time, upset that the day she got home both her big sister and her favorite cousin were mad at her. "I wasn't the one that found the spirit board!"

There was a grunt from over where Dean was closing the box lid on the book, grumbling, "No, you just started reading incantations without-"

"It doesn't matter," Piper chimed in, physically getting in between the other two and Phoebe, "because nothing happened, right Phoebe? When you read the incantation, nothing, happened."

"Well, my head spun around and I vomited split pea soup," Phoebe grumbled, only for Piper to shoot her a look that said Please Cooperate.

"Everything looks the same," Sam added.

Dean still didn't look impressed, though. "Because that makes so much difference when you deal with the occult..." he grumbled, before storming out the attic door and down towards the basement. Prue looked back at the three of them, her eyes saying not to mess with this anymore before she started out after him.

Piper looked at her little sister and cousin, and sighed a little. "It's fine," she said, trying to console them. "Nothing's changed, so everything's fine..." With that, she started to lead Sam to the door, muttering something about maybe being able to get something together for hot chocolate.

Phoebe though chewed on her tongue, annoyed with the situation and her family. Without half a thought she moved forwards and closed the door behind them before going back to the chest. Dean and Prue didn't want her messing with it anymore.

But she wasn't usually the one to listen to them anyway.

 

(-:-)

 

The dawn sprayed cool light over the Halliwell manor when it rose the next morning. Everyone in the house, having been thoroughly _done_ with excitement after Phoebe’s finding the book, had all settled back into their normal pattern. Prue was already gone for work before the sun was up. Piper was dressing for her continued job search. Sam had prodded Dean awake, reminding him that he had to be at work, and that he needed to give Sam a ride to school.

Yet, as they all went about their business, Phoebe sat outside, sipping on a cup of coffee. This being her first day back, she didn’t exactly have anywhere be, not to mention she was sleepy from having stayed up all night with the Book of Shadows.

The few pages she had read before being banned from reading it were nothing compared to what else was held in the book. Page after page of spells and mythical creatures; demons and potions. What had interested her the most, though, was the mythos of the book being passed down to the Charmed Ones.

She was pondering it, and how to bring it up with her family when this magic business turned out to be real, when a voice made her look up.

“You’re up early.”

Phoebe smiled. “Never went to sleep,” she responded to Piper.

The gentlest of the sisters smiled, choosing to make a joke instead of continue the drama that had been flying around last night. “Don’t tell me you put on a black conical hat and spent the night flying around on a broomstick,” she teased.

“The only broom I’ve ever had was kept in a closet beside a mop,” Phoebe said, shaking her head, but smiling good-naturedly.

“So what were you doing?” asked Piper, sliding to sit next to her younger sister.

“Reading,” Phoebe said, putting the cup up to her lips, about to take another sip. “Are Dean or Prue around?”

“Prue went to work early. Dean is getting ready to take Sam to school,” Piper said, her voice getting low now that the book had been brought up again. “You weren’t reading aloud, were you?”

“No…” Phoebe sighed, trying to defend herself as Piper stood up, getting ready to go to her car. “But…according to the book of shadows, one of our ancestors was a witch named Melinda Warren.”

“And we have a cousin who’s a drunk, an aunt who’s manic, and a father who’s invisible,” Piper said before standing up and starting for her Jeep. “Phoebe, you need to drop this. Dean will skin you if you bring it up again.”

“Dean needs to get over himself…”

“I heard that.”

Both sisters spun from where they were standing, not having heard the door open as the boys headed for the Impala. Dean looked annoyed that Phoebe had obviously continued meddling, but he still seemed tired enough to not let it get to his words just yet. Sam on the other hand was looking at Phoebe sympathetically, wishing he had something helpful to say as he walked to the car.

“You do. Just because you’re convinced there’s evil about-“

“That’s because there is Pheebs,” Dean sighed, opening the door to his baby and sliding into the seat. “Seriously. Let it go before something bad happens.”

“If nothing else, at least he’ll stop whining about it,” Sam added, earning an indignant _hey_ from his brother, and a giggle from his cousins. “See you after school.”

Dean waved at the two of them briefly, closing the door and starting up the Impala.

As they backed out of the driveway, though, Phoebe looked at Piper and continued. “I’m serious, though,” she said. “She practiced three powers: moving objects with her mind, seeing the future, and being able to stop time, and she said that they would one day be passed on to her descendants. Before she was burned at the stake, she vowed that each generation of Warren Witches would become stronger and stronger, culminating in a generation of the most powerful witches the world has ever known. They’re good witches, protecting people and everything, and…I think we’re them.”

Piper looked at her sister for a second, the look on her face still dubious. “Look, Phoebe,” she started. “I know what happened last night was weird and unexplainable, but we are not witches and we don’t have special powers. Besides, Grams wasn’t a witch, and as far as we know, neither was mom.” She dropped a kiss on her sister’s cheek before sliding into the Jeep and turning it on.

Phoebe just kept smiling. “We’re the protectors of the innocent,” she chimed. Piper waved at her, half smiling as she drove away.

“We’re known as the Charmed Ones.”

 

(-:-)

 

Before Grams had died, Prue had been engaged. The other Halliwells didn’t like the guy, since he treated Dean like a second class citizen, made fun of Piper’s shyness, and basically ignored Sam. Phoebe was the only one of them who wouldn’t put up with it for Prue’s sake, but when she confronted him about it, he told Prue that Phoebe had attempted to seduce him, causing a major blow up between the sisters.

He was obviously a skeeve, but for several months, Prue was convinced that she was in love, and that her co-worker Roger was the perfect guy: smart, financially stable, and he said he wanted a family.

Less than a week after Grams died, and Prue became the head of the Halliwell family, she found out that last part was a lie.

There were a lot of reasons for the break up. Roger’s know-it-all attitude grated on her, and the condescending tone he used on her sister and cousins made her skin crawl. When she mentioned that she was moving back into the manor, the Halliwell family home for four generations, Roger had told her she was being ridiculous.

The last straw came when she decided to adopt Sam, though. With Grams gone, and Sam’s father always rambling out on the road, there had been a brief scare with Social Services attempting to take him away. Prue immediately decided that she wanted her family to stay together, and as the eldest would take Sam in. Roger had flat told her she was crazy. He didn’t understand the situation with John, and Prue didn’t want to force Piper to adopt her cousin. When Prue mentioned Sam moving in with her and Roger when they got their own place, he had flat out refused.

Even months later, their relationship still bore the rough tone of a bad break-up. Prue tried to be friendly, but Roger hid his malice by ignoring her as much as possible, and being condescending and overly professional when he _had_ to talk to her.

Prue tried not to grind her teeth as she walked along side her ex-fiancé and current co-worker. Roger was going on about something or another, and she was barely able to keep listening. They’d been discussing the various new or pending acquisitions for almost an hour now, and he grew only more annoying as they went. She only really started paying attention when they reached the future sight of the Beals exhibition, a project Prue had been working tirelessly on for months.

“There’s been a change of plans.”

Prue looked over at him. “Change of plans?” she echoed, begging for specifics. “Regarding the Beals Exhibition?”

Roger nodded. “The extra money that you helped raise through private donations has sparked significant corporate interest. The Beals artifacts will now become part of our permanent collection.”

The good news made her face brighten. “Well that’s terrific,” she started, before realizing the tone in his voice more or less said there was something else coming, so she wasn’t surprised when he cut her off.

“...Which is why the board wants someone a little more…qualified to handle the collection from now on.”

Prue didn’t even have to see her face to know it was starting to darken, not even able to put into words how _low_ it was of whoever was taking her exhibit away from her.

“You look surprised.”

“I don’t know why,” Prue growled back, turning full towards him. “I’m furious. Not only have I been on this project since its inception, but I’m the curator who secured the entire exhibition.” Yet Roger’s face didn’t seem at all sympathetic, and the gears clicked in her head. Yeah, _he_ would be the one to go that low. “You’re the person a little more qualified, aren’t you?”

Roger only looked at her, striving for the rewarded passerby, but she knew better. “Well, I could hardly say not to the entire board of directors, could I? But I know you’ll be happy for me. After all, what’s good for me is definitely good for you. Right, Ms. Halliwell?”

Prue took a moment, taking in her name when he said it now, instead of how he’d said _Prue_ only two months ago. “Ms. Halliwell?” she questioned, tone still dark. “Since when did we stop being on a first name basis? When we stopped sleeping together, or when I returned your engagement ring, Roger?”

Roger paused, sputtering for a second as he came up with the words. “I didn’t realize the two were mutually exclusive,” he replied, barbs on each word. “Although, I certainly enjoyed one more than the other.”

“Bastard,” she growled before turning around furiously, wanting to go directly to her office to scream, but she was stopped.

“Prue, wait…”

Trying to remain professional, she stopped, and turned slightly, still looking at him icily as he looked for a few more words.

“I feel I should say something,” he continued. “If only to avoid a lawsuit.”

With that, she saw red, and as she snarled she felt just a little bit of pressure in the tips of her fingers as she dug them into the meat of her palms. As she turned around to furiously stomp to her office, she didn’t even notice a blue stain spreading across Roger’s shirt.

She also didn’t notice that when he pulled the pen out of his pocket to see if it had broken, it sprayed him in the face.

 

(-:-)

 

Phoebe looked ahead serenely as she followed the road on her bike. Still warding off drowsiness from the lack of sleep the past night, she had finally put the book and the coffee down and hopped on the bike she had brought from New York.

Before she got too comfortable riding over familiar streets, there was a sudden rush through her head. The image of kids on roller skates passed in a blur behind her eyelids, while their laughter running through her ears. Then, just as suddenly as the first had come, and before she could process it, she saw a second image of an SUV driving into an intersection as the skaters rolled in front of it. Honks and yelling overwhelmed her, and she gripped the handle bars tight.

And then they were gone.

Her eyes snapped open, and she breathed heavily, not considering how the hell she had stayed in control of the bike as a much more urgent and excited part wondered what she had just seen. A mental spasm? A really realistic daydream? Or had she just seen the future?

She looked up again as the laughter from the vision traveled through the air. Her eyes found the source and she was only a little surprised when she realized it was the same as the images she had just seen.

Her eyes widened as it dawned on her that the SUV must be near, and sure enough, she saw it coming down a hill, and the boys were oblivious.

"No!" she shouted at them, speeding up. "Wait!"

She got to the street just before the boys did, and did the only "reasonable" thing she could: she bailed off of her bike, falling to the ground hard and cutting the boys off.

She heard a car-horn honk, but she didn't see it, as when her head hit the asphalt, a second set of premonitions appeared in her head. This time, though, she saw a very familiar face laughing amidst a selection of cars, catching a tool that was thrown to him. The image changed, quickly, showing him underneath a car, a wrench in hand, and oil all over his shirt.

And then, it showed the car he was working on, legs still sticking out from underneath the car as a plume of flame blasted the hood off.

Then she found herself staring back at the sky. Both of the boys she'd saved were hovering over her to see if she was okay.

She could only make herself say one word, though. "Dean."

 

(-:-)

 

Prue tried to keep her face neutral as she started towards Roger’s office. The night before had already put her in a poor mood for today, but now hearing about Roger taking her exhibit had only made it worse. She had to do something to fix it, and as she neared the door, she knew just what to do.

And of course, she heard him talking to someone over the phone as she walked towards the door.

“It was my idea to spark corporate interest from private donations,” the man was blatantly lying as he tied his tie. “Besides, not only have I been with this project from its inception, but we both know who really secured the entire exhibit.” He laughed as he started to turn in his chair, eyes widening when he saw her. “Prue.”

Oh. That was _it_.

“I quit,” she said flatly.

A look of panic appeared on Roger’s face. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he said quickly, before putting down the receiver. “Think about this Prue…”

She looked towards a window, already having been thinking about this for a while actually. “Lousy job, lousy pay,” she looked at him in particular right now, “ _Lousy_ boss. What’s to think about?”

“You’re future,” Roger replied severely. “Because believe me, if you walk out with no notice, you can kiss any references…”

But Prue’s eyes just narrowed. “Don’t threaten me, Roger,” she warned. No, she had been through enough of this with him.

Trying to save face, Roger switched to something more congenial, chuckling a little. “You know me,” he said. “Had to try. Look, you’re hurt, you’re angry, your pride is wounded. I understand all that. That’s why you can’t see that I’m doing you a favor.”

“Excuse me?”

“I had to take the exhibit away from you,” Roger insisted. “If I hadn’t, the board would’ve come in and…and put a total stranger in my place. Think about it Prue. I’m here for you. Not some stranger. You should be thanking me, not leaving me.”

The look on Prue’s face clearly said that the words spewing from his mouth were bullshit.“Well,” she said after a beat, laughing just slightly. “I’m not worried. I’m certain your intellect will make quick work of the seventy-five computer disks and the _thousands_ of pages of research I left in my office.”

Roger’s face contorted, a little terrified of that prospect. “You’re gonna regret this,” he choked.

She just smirked. “Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “I thought breaking up with you was the best thing I’d ever done, but _this_ definitely tops that. Good bye Roger…”

She started to turn while Roger floundered, trying to get the last word in, but all he could come up with was, “I hope there are no office supplies in your purse!”

Prue’s face twisted angrily. The sheer _nerve!_ She paused just a second outside of his office, twisting her hand in a fist before continuing on, not looking back to hear Roger choking on something, and sputtering as things clamored across the floor.

She was done with him. Nothing more to say.

Yet the fire within her still died just a little when her cell phone started ringing, and she answered to get a call from the hospital.

 

(-:-)

 

Dean grunted a little as he twisted a stubborn bolt back into place on the undercarriage of the sedan he was changing the oil in. He could hear the grinding of tools and the laughing of his coworkers out in the rest of the shop, and part of him felt content to be there.

No one in his family had been exceptionally surprised that the majority of work he did was in car maintenance. Since he was a kid, he had been good with machines. John had him help on the Impala almost every time he stopped through town when he was younger, and once upon a time he had even considered going to school for an Engineering degree. Being a terrible student and knowing that he was going to end up a hunter had curbed that dream early on, but it was good for temporary work. He enjoyed it, he was good at it, and he'd be on the road again soon anyway, so why not?

He rolled his way back out from under the car and took a breath of the musty air of the garage before he heard his name called, and looked in the direction of two of the other guys in the shop, Jayme and Erick. "What?" he questioned, asking for a repeat of whatever he had been asked.

Jayme laughed. "C'mon, haven't you heard Erick's phone ringing every thirty seconds? Whipped, yes or no?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, grinning a little. Erick's wife was pregnant, he remembered. Having grown up in a house with four women, Dean knew well the effects hormones could have on peaceful living. "Has he been answering?" he jibed.

Erick rolled his eyes. "No," he sighed, bending back over the hood of the van he was working on. "Look, Carol is two weeks from her due date; she's freaking out a little about..."

"Everything," Dean finished, sounding amused as he leaned back against the car he was working on.

"You poor sucker," Jayme replied with false sympathy. "And think how much worse it'll be with the actual kid around! You're days away from being taken out of your prime!"

The married man rolled his eyes again before shutting the hood. "Shut up, Jayme," he said flatly before rolling underneath the van. Jayme just kept laughing, moving to a rack of oil and such on the other wall.

"Hey," Dean hollered at him. "Can you throw me that?"

Jayme looked to where he was pointing and pulled it off the shelf. He wordlessly tossed it towards Dean, letting it sail over the hood of Erick's van where he was working between them.

And then something happened.

When Dean's arms snapped out to catch the tool, a ripple of energy rolled through the muscles in his arm, bursting out at his hands just before the bottle landed in them. There was a loud bang that followed it, and the hood of the van Erick was under suddenly blew off of one of the hinges.

Both Dean and Jayme flinched, shielding themselves instinctively before flames started flourishing around one of the engine parts. Erick started yelling, scrambling to get out from under the machine.

Jayme ran for a fire extinguisher, as Dean came to his senses and ran to pull Erick out by the ankles.

"You okay?" he asked urgently, tugging him to his feet and out of the way as Jayme sprayed extinguisher foam over the engine. A part of his brain lingered on the energy that had run through his arms, knowing it was important. It had been funny, but his hunter instincts were telling him _that's_ what had caused this. But it couldn't have. Right?

Erick nodded fervently. "Wha-why?" he stammered, stunned at whatever had just happened.

"I don't know," Dean said, his muscles going tense from years' worth of training from his dad. "Was there anything at all in the-"

Erick shook his head. "N...No."

"C'mon, bro," Dean said, his voice overly calm. "There had to be something in there..."

Saying this, he swung his arm back at the van, and suddenly there was that energy again. Another bang sounded. Jayme yelped as another flame burst up, banging the hood off of its other hinge and hit a light fixture.

Suddenly, everyone in the shop was around them, yelling to know what was going on.

Dean had spun back though, and started to inch away, his eyes wide. One time: sure, coincidence. Twice: please. He knew better.

One thing was absolutely certain as the hood crashed back down to the floor nearby: something was very, very wrong.

 

(-:-)

 

Piper diligently scuttled around the kitchen as she continued to prepare her audition recipe. The pasta was done and on the plate, the base for the sauce was sitting in a pot on the stove, and all that was left to do was to measure out the port to put in. If she wasn’t so busy concentrating, she’d certainly be smiling confidently, feeling like she had the job already.

But, of course, when you start feeling like that, things go wrong.

“You’re time,” a voice interrupted, shocking her out of her port measurements, “is up.”

She turned, mouth agape as he reached for her recipe, looking over the card as she tried to indicate the port she hadn’t added yet. “Let’s see, uh, _roast pork with a gratin of Florence fennel and penne with a port giblet sauce_ , huh?”

He reached for a fork, getting into the pasta, and she desperately tried to save herself.

“Uh, Chef Moore?”

“What?”

“Uh…the port…”

“Yes, without it, the sauce is nothing more than a salty marinara, a recipe from a woman’s magazine…” he said, barely even thinking as he speared the pasta.

“But”

“Pfft-I don’t have time for…”

Piper opened her mouth to talk again, but he just cut her off, holding the sauce covered pasta in front of her. “Ah-ah!”

“But-but,” she desperately sputtered, not ready to hear dejection for something so silly as that she was rejected because she wasn’t allowed to finish. She held up her hands, making one desperate gasping noise before it got into his mouth, and suddenly everything stopped.

For a few moments, she just stood there, wondering if Chef Moore had just decided to listen to her and actually stopped. But then he was staring at her, unblinking, completely unmoving.

“Chef Moore?” she asked, waving a hand in front of his face, moving around. He still didn’t even blink. “Chef Moore? Hello? Hello?”

Before the shock at what was happening could get to her, though, an idea hit her. Still more focused on the job than supernatural mumbo jumbo, she turned and quickly brought some of the port into a basting syringe, and just managed to splurt some onto the pasta on Moore’s fork before he unfroze and put it into his mouth.

The expression that crept onto his face consoled her fears about the job. “Mmmmm,” he breathed. “That is very good. C’est magnifique, eh?”

She forced a smile onto her face, happily getting ready to accept her new job.

Yet already, behind the happy face, she was starting to freak out.

What had Phoebe done?

 

(-:-)

 

Prue walked through the doors to the nurse’s station for what had to be the third of fourth time in two hours. It was past noon, and still, Phoebe wasn’t out, even though Prue had been told it was very minor damage. “Hi, um, I’m looking for my sister, Phoebe Halliwell,” she said.

The nurse didn’t look up, still dealing with another patron. “One second, please,” she said, before looking up at the tall man standing at the counter. “What’s the name again?”

He looked up and he caught Prue’s eye. “Inspector Andrew Trudeau, Homicide. Dr. Gordon’s expecting me.”

Prue blinked over at him as the nurse scuttled off. “Andy?” she questioned, a surprised tone to her voice.

Andy turned around to look at her, a smile popping onto his face. “Prue?” he asked, as Prue laughed a little. “I don’t believe it. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Prue replied, her day feeling just a bit better now that she was seeing him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Andy responded, a little stammer in his voice. “I just can’t believe I’m running into you.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, picking up Phoebe,” said Prue, looking at her feet for a moment. “She had some sort of an accident.”

“Is she gonna be okay?” Andy asked, looking a bit concerned. He had lived next door to the family for years, so he was mildly attached to all of them.

“Oh, yeah, she’ll be fine. Uh. What are you doing here?”

Andy’s face seemed to fall a little. “Murder investigation.” He said, looking a little annoyed that he was bringing up a morbid topic just as the nurse walked back up.

“Your sister’s still in x-ray, so it’ll be another fifteen minutes,” the woman said to Prue before looking at Andy. “Dr. Gordon’s office is to the left and down the hall. He’s with a patient right now, but you’re free to wait outside his office.”

“Thank you,” Andy and Prue both said to the woman one after the other, before they looked back to one another obviously not quite ready to leave the conversation.

“Well, it was good seeing you Prue,” Andy said to her, reaching out to shake a hand as Prue laughed a little.

“Yeah, you too Andy, take care…” she muttered, shaking his hand, though she knew there was nothing between them that required hand shaking. Andy started to walk off, but after a moment, he turned around.

“Hey, you know,” he started. “Phoebe’s busy, and Dr. Gordon’s busy. Can I buy you a bad cup of coffee while we wait?”

Prue couldn’t fight the smile that returned to her face. “Sure,” she started just as her phone started to ring again. She looked up at him, making a motion to say one second as she walked towards the sliding doors, opening up her phone.

“Hello, Miss Halliwell?”

“Yes?”

“This is the school nurses office. I’m calling about Sam…”

 

(-:-)

 

Phoebe swatted at the nurses as they tried handing her prescriptions or giving her instructions to take it easy. After the things she had seen only a few hours ago, the only thing currently on her mind was getting Dean on the line and getting him out of the shop before something bad happened.

When she finally got to a phone, the line at the shop picked up fairly quickly, and Dean's boss happily called him to the phone. He sounded tense when he started talking to her, and that was enough to make her worry just get that much worse.

"Oh thank god," Phoebe breathed. "You're okay. You're okay, right? Please tell me you're okay?"

"If you count startled and irritated as okay," Dean grumbled back.

"Why-what-you know never mind. Look, you need to get out of there, like now. Something really bad is about to happen."

"Now why would that be, Phoebe?" Dean asked, the tone of voice he used way to high to be sincere. "Because there's going to be an explosion?"

"Yes," Phoebe began, before pausing. "Wait. Ho-"

"It already happened, Pheebs," Dean sighed. "And guess what? I'm the one that caused it."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, but Erick came pretty close to having his head blown off. Now, would you like to tell me what the _hell_ you did last night that I can now blow things up by pointing at them?"

His voice was severe, and Phoebe winced a little. "Dean," she started. "It's okay. It's happening to me too."

Dean did not sound pleased. "Well that's great..."

"Dean I'm serious. I had a premonition earlier. I'm at the hospital-"

"Wait-what?" Now Dean just sounded worried, like the pseudo-older-brother he was. "Hospital? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I bailed off my bike to stop a car wreck from happening. Kind of hit my head, but I'm okay, I promise."

Dean grumbled something, his irritation partly replaced by his brotherly concern. "For the love of...Phoebe, if this is really happening, we are in serious trouble."

"I know, but we'll figure it out. Look, we just need to all get home so we can talk. Can you get off work?"

"Phoebe, who are you talking to?"

Phoebe had to laugh a little. "Good, I'll see you at home. Be safe."

"I'll try."

With that, the line shut down, and when Phoebe turned, she saw Prue, who looked even more agitated than Phoebe felt.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Phoebe replied. "Can we go now?"

Prue raised an eyebrow. "Not immediately, what’s the rush?”

"We have to get home," Phoebe said quickly. "I'll explain in the car."

Prue raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but we'll have to stop at the high school first. Sam's in the nurse’s office."

 

(-:-)

 

Piper tapped her foot anxiously as she stood at the payphone outside of the restaurant. As predicted, she had gotten the job, but now she was really beginning to freak out about the freezing. Phoebe had said Melinda Warren could freeze time. This was really happening.

“Phoebe…” she growled at the dial tone. “Answer the phone-Answer the phone!” The tone just kept going, and she grunted in frustration before slamming it back down on the receiver. She started to turn, making mental plans to get home and scream at the younger woman, but then there was a presence in front of her, and she gasped to see the man looking at her. “Oh god, Jeremy, you scared me!” she exclaimed, knowing she was getting too worked up over this witch business.

He looked at her concernedly. “I-I can see,” he said carefully. “I’m sorry. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Piper said after a moment. “Now I am. I really am. Um. What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Jeremy started, a grin coming to his face. “I wanted to be the first one to congratulate you on your new job.”

A real smile finally cut through the nerves keeping Piper jumpy. “You’re always surprising me,” she said, laughing a bit. “How did you know?”

“You prepared your specialty,” Jeremy said confidently. “And anyone who’s ever sampled your work can truly see how talented you are.”

Piper grinned. “I get so turned on when you talk about food,” she said, putting her hands in his and pulling closer.

He wrapped his arms around her in a hug. “Hotdogs, hamburgers…Pizza.”

 

(-:-)

 

Sam kept his eyes clenched shut as he laid on the daybed in the nurses office. His head was throbbing and really, it was starting to freak him out. He'd never been prone to getting headaches, much less migraines. Yet halfway down the hall to his third period class, something in his head started to twinge. By the time he was in his desk, there was a steady ache, and within a few minutes it hurt like a bitch. Worse, his teacher could see it on his face. He had been sent to the nurse, who immediately called Prue, who he knew should be there to get him soon.

He tried to drown out the pain by thinking about other things. He had a soccer game coming up. He had a test in seventh period. He still had Dean's shotgun under his bed. For the most part, it kept him from thinking about the pain, but by the time he heard Prue's voice, it still hadn't gone away.

"Sammy?" she asked, moving away from the sign out sheet.

Sam slowly sat up, wincing a little.

"Hey, you doing alright?" she asked.

The teenager wrinkled his nose. "Not great," he said roughly.

Prue frowned. "Alright, c'mon. We'll go by the pharmacy to get some painkillers, then go home."

She tugged him out of the nurse's office gently, and then out the front door to where Phoebe was waiting in the car.

"You okay, Sam?" she asked in concern as the younger boy slid into the back. Sam only grunted in response, and Phoebe winced in sympathy before looking back to Prue. "Can we go home now?"

Prue sighed, but Sam made a noise of approval for this idea.

"No, we're running by the pharmacy first. You've got that prescription from the hospital to fill and Sam needs Advil."

"But Dean-"

"Dean can wait another half an hour."

"What's going on with Dean?" Sam piped up.

Prue rolled her eyes. "Nothing is wrong with Dean. He and Phoebe are still on this prank from last night."

"Oh come on Prue!" sighed the younger sister. "You can't seriously think that!"

"Phoebe, really. It's time to stop, alright?" Prue sighed. "I'm tired of this and Sam doesn't need to hear it!"

"What's going on?" Sam asked again.

"Nothing," Prue answered flatly.

"Dean and me discovered the powers I told you guys about last night," Phoebe answered, her voice full of sour defiance for her sister.

"Phoebe!" Prue growled.

"It's true!" repeated the younger sister. "This morning, I had a premonition that two boys would get hit by a car, and I managed to stop it. I called Dean at the hospital and he told me he accidentally blew something up at the shop with his powers. Has nothing odd happened to you at all today?"

"Come on..." Prue sighed. "It was an accident and you both know it!" Prue sighed irritably.

"Prue-"

"Just quit talking!"

With that exclamation, the entire car went quiet. They pulled into the Pharmacy parking lot a few moments later, and Prue got out expecting to go in alone. Of course, Phoebe followed her with a sharp look of determination in her eyes, leaving Sam to sigh, and press the heels of his hands into his eyes. He didn’t need powers to predict the fight they were about to have in the store.

"Prue, listen to me," Phoebe blurted as she charged after her sister.

"No. This is ridiculous. You have taken this one way to far," Prue growled back as they stormed through the double doors of the pharmacy. "You haven't made anything but trouble since you got back! You've got Sam freaking out and the drama is really starting to get old."

"Drama?" Phoebe asked incredulously. "If you wanna talk about drama, how about we consider that you _never_ want to listen to a word I say because of-"

Prue rounded on her sister, stopping in the middle of one of the aisles. "I said stop!" she blurted, feeling a burst of anger bolt from her chest, and suddenly a dozen pill bottles flew from the shelf next to her. Prue's eyes went wide as she slowly looked from her sister to the pill bottles on the floor.

A look that said _"I told you so"_ slowly pulled onto Phoebe's face. "Whoa," she said flatly. "Looks like you got the 'move things with your mind' part of the equation."

Prue just stared at the pills for a second, then back up at Phoebe before spinning around to go find Aspirin.

"Your powers must work when you’re angry," Phoebe reasoned as she followed her older sister.

"Don't be ridiculous. None of us have powers," Prue said, her voice stubborn, doing her best to ignore what had just happened.

"You saw that just like I did," responded her younger sister smartly.

"No. No. That was...that had to be..."

"Keep telling yourself that," Phoebe responded smugly. "Wow, and I didn't even say Roger's name...I wonder what would happen if..."

"Phoebe..." Prue growled in warning, looking back at her little sister, who smiled.

"I wonder what would happen," she continued. "If I started to talk about Dad."

With that, Prue's face darkened, and the shelves around them suddenly shook, sending all of the pill bottles to the floor at their feet.

Phoebe looked pointedly at them, and then back up at Prue, who had her jaw clenched, and her eyes narrowed.

"What did you do to us?"

 

(-:-)

 

Sam gritted his teeth and pressed his head into his hands. The headache had only gotten worse since he had been sitting in the car, and it was all he could do to not start crying. It felt like his skull was starting to split down his forehead. He couldn't think, and his breathing had started to get rushed and uneven. Part of him was terrified something was _really_ wrong, and he could only hope that when Prue and Phoebe finally got back into the car, the pain killers would help.

But suddenly, there was a flash of images that surged through his brain. A black boy was running laps on a track wearing ROTC issue gym clothes. A brunette girl was giggling with her friends. Another boy was smoking what looked like pot in an alley way. One image came after another so fast that he couldn't focus on any one of them, only recognizing that they were his age before suddenly it all stopped, and the last thing he saw before the ache in his head stopped was a pair of narrow yellow eyes.

Slowly, he looked up, his headache gone, but his eyes wide. What had just happened to him?

Before he could even start to wonder if this 'magic' situation had started this all, the driver-side door to the front seat swung open violently. "I can't believe you Phoebe!" he heard Prue basically shout as she slid into her seat.

Phoebe slid into hers as well, quite a bit more calmly and smugly. "Me?" she laughed.

"Yes, you turned me into a witch!"

 

(-:-)

 

Piper looked out the front window of the cab, still mulling over the events of the past twenty-four hours as she and Jeremy rode to his place. After picking her up, he’d taken her out for an early dinner, but she still hadn’t been able to shake the weirdness that had been happening.

“Has anything weird or unexplainable ever happened to you?” she asked, looking over at her boyfriend. She didn’t want to make him think she was crazy, but she had to ask.

Jeremy shrugged. “Sure, it’s called luck or fate. Some call it miracles,” he said, before a small frown came to his face. “Why? What happened?”

Piper just shook her head, waving her hand in his direction. “Forget it, even if I could tell you, you’d swear I was crazy…” she muttered, pulling open the take away box. “Open your fortune cookie.”

He shook his head, taking it and breaking the cookie in half. “Okay…” he muttered, before looking at the paper that had been trapped inside. “Soon you will be on top.”

“It does not say that,” Piper said dubiously.

He looked up at her. “Yes it does,” he said.

“Let me see.” She reached out to take the paper, while Jeremy joked.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Piper rolled her eyes a little. “Of the world,” she corrected. “Soon you will be on top of the world.”

Jeremy laughed as she threw the fortune at him, but then looked ahead to correct the driver on where they were going. “Oh, can you make a left on Seventh?”

“Seventh?” Piper asked, sounding a little concerned. “I thought we were going to your place.”

“We are,” Jeremy affirmed. “But you reminded me of something. I want to show you the old Boeing Building. The view of the Bay Bridge, it’s amazing.”

Piper could only blink, not knowing just what she was getting into.

 

Dean paced the floor nervously as the grandfather clock in the next room tick-tick-ticked away overly loudly. He had been home for almost an hour now, and there was still no sign of Phoebe or Prue. He had gotten out of work without too much incident, but with everything that had happened since Phoebe had gotten home, he was getting jumpy.

Powers. Magic. Phoebe had done something and it was starting to dawn on him that this was the kind of thing his dad hunted for. Hell, this was the kind of thing _he_ had hunted.

He had seen witches before and honestly, he didn't like them. Animal sacrifices, dark magic, usually idiots who didn't know they were selling their souls away without a second thought. They were messy and usually only wound up hurting people.

He had tried to keep his mind off of it as it dawned on him, but there was really nothing he could do in the meantime. He wasn't going to clean his guns while he was practically a weapon himself, and he was not going to go snoop around the attic now that he knew what was up there."

So, that had left pacing the floor in the front room, which only seemed to be making his stir-crazy worse.

"C'mon, Phoebe," he grumbled to himself, before there was a scrambling noise in the next room, followed shortly by the sound of breaking glass.

Already on edge, Dean dashed towards the Solarium, where he put his arms up defensively and suddenly blew out a window.

There was a tiny groan that came from his throat as Dean blinked rapidly. Piper and Prue would not be happy about that. He then saw a movement in the corner of his eye, and he carefully looked towards it, only to see a Siamese cat next to a houseplant that had been knocked to the floor.

He glared at the animal.

And then, he heard the door swing open, and someone yelled. "Dean? Dean? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah," Dean hollered back, agitation still in his voice as he slowly and carefully wandered back towards the front room. "But it would be wonderful to know who the hell let a cat into the house. Not to mention, what the _HELL_ is going on?!"

Phoebe looked affronted as he got to the front room. Prue was shuffling through the door, looking as upset as he was, and then he saw Sam, who seemed nervous, and who shouldn't have been there.

And then older-brother Dean re-emerged. "Sammy, you okay?"

The fifteen year old nodded, but Prue was the one that quickly told him about the migraine while Phoebe ran upstairs to get the book.

"He couldn't focus in his classes because of a migraine, so the nurse sent him home. We already got him some painkillers. He says he's feeling better."

"So it's got nothing to do with the freaky shit going on?"

Neither of the cousins noticed how Sam actually looked away at this, not saying a word.

"If it is, he hasn't said anything," Prue replied. "What tricks does Phoebe have you pulling?"

"Oh, just minor explosions," Dean grumbled.

Prue sighed. "Because my knocking things over with my mind wasn't enough."

"Telekinesis," Sam piped up as he shrugged his backpack off his shoulders. "It's called telekinesis."

"It doesn't matter what it’s called because we're getting rid of it,” Dean grumbled.

"No, we aren't."

Everyone turned, not surprised to see Phoebe looking ten kinds of defiant from where she was standing with the book on the stairs. "Guys, I don't know if you've considered this, but these powers are not a bad thing. We were born with them, and they're a part of us."

Dean looked dubious as she got back down to the ground floor and started into the dining room. "Phoebe, I've lived almost twenty years without them," he growled back. "They’re dangerous, and I think I'm good to give them back."

Phoebe managed to keep herself from sneering as she set the book down. "Look," she started, flipping the book open to one of the early pages. "According to this, we're the latest descendants of the line of Warren witches. There are dozens of wood carvings in here showing witches battling different incarnations of evil."

"Evil-fighting-evil," Prue muttered, pulling out a chair. "That's a twist." Dean snorted; Phoebe just looked annoyed that they still weren't listening to her.

"Actually, a witch can be either good or evil. A good witch follows the Wiccan rede 'an it harm none, do what ye will.' Bad witches are called warlocks, who only have the goal to kill good witches and obtain their powers. They look like regular people, though, so they could be anybody."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't care what they're called," he said. "I wanna know where these powers came from, and how to get rid of them."

Phoebe raised her eyebrows looking at him as if she just didn't get it. "Dean, we were born with them," she repeated. "Why are you so afraid of this?"

"Why aren't you?" Dean shot back.

Phoebe shrugged. "Everyone inherits something from their family."

Prue made a face. Sam kept his mouth shut as he moved next to Phoebe taking a closer look at the book as everyone else's focus was on arguing.

"Yes," Prue responded. "Antiques, money, a strong disposition. That is what _normal_ people inherit."

"Who wants to be normal when we can be special?"

At this, it was Dean's face that went dark. "Who wants to be normal?" he choked. "Phoebe, do you know what being involved in this means? We are going to be _hunted_ for having these powers. _Things_ are going to come after us, and so will witch hunters."

"Dean, we can't change what's happened," Phoebe said flatly. "We can't undo our destiny."

"Being a witch is not my destiny and it sure as _hell_ isn't yours," Dean growled viciously, making Phoebe's eyes narrow as she saw the protective-brother in him far more than the disgust she had always seen in his eyes for the occult. Dean had images flashing behind his eyes of all of the witches he had hunted with his dad over the years, all the terror they had caused, how twisted magic had made them. Moreover, he considered the fact that there was always someone giving them their power. Who was after Phoebe's soul, after all of their souls, for this? He’d be damned if he’d lose his family because of this.

Before anyone said anything else, there was a distracted chime of a voice from the book. "Someone should call Piper."

Everyone looked over to where Sam was still reading over one of the pages. He looked up when no one responded. "All of y'all are getting powers right? She probably is too. One of you call her and the rest of us will keep reading to see if we can figure out what's going on."

It wasn't lost on anyone that the most reasonable member of the family at the moment was also the youngest, so without a word, Dean walked off to find the house phone, and Phoebe ran upstairs to see if there were more books.

 

(-:-)

 

The old door creaked open ominously as Jeremy opened the entryway to the old warehouse. “Well, here we are,” he said as Piper looked inside nervously.

“I don’t care how amazing the view is, I’m not going in there,” she said flatly before Jeremy reached back to grab her hand.

“Come on, come on,” he insisted, pulling her in with him. “I have a surprise inside.” He led her to the elevator, and closed the grating on it before hitting the button to start taking them up. “You are gonna love this,” he said, stepping back beside her. “I bet you’ll tell Phoebe and Prue the moment you see them.”

Hearing that, Piper looked up at Jeremy in surprise. “I never mentioned Phoebe came home,” she said, turning towards him.

Jeremy opened his mouth, like he was feeling like an idiot, but immediately rounded on her, pulling a knife from his pocket. “Ooops,” he said.

Piper backed away, her voice going breathy with surprise and fear. “What is that?”

“It’s your surprise,” Jeremy responded with an insane grin.

“Jeremy, stop it. You’re scaring me,” she said, looking up at him, but he still just kept a grin on his face, holding out the knife. “Damn it, I’m serious!”

“So am I!” Jeremy now growled at her as she backed against the wall, and they started circling one another. “See, I’ve waited six month’s for this. Ever since Grams went to the hospital. You see, I’ve known for quite some time that the moment the old witch croaked that all your powers, they’d be released-powers that would reveal themselves as soon as the three of you got together again. All that was needed was for Phoebe to return.”

Gears started clicking together, and Piper gasped a little as she said, “It’s you isn’t it? You killed all those women.”

“Not women,” he replied lowly, stepping towards her. “Witches.”

“Why?”

Jeremy put a hand up now, lighter sized flames erupting from each of his fingertips. “It was the only way to get their powers,” he said as his voice went low and demonic. “And now I want yours!”

His face then twisted disgustingly, and Piper screamed. Jeremy lunged for her grabbing her sweater, and Piper put up her hands to protect herself, not entirely surprised when Jeremy froze.

She panted, the situation overwhelming her. She moved out from in front of him, pulling her sweater from his grasp and trying to figure a way out. “Okay…think. Stay calm,” she told herself. “Think-think-think, you’ve gotta get out of here…” she muttered, only to look over to the grating and see that they had stopped. “Okay,” she told herself. “Okay…” She walked over to the ledge and crawled onto the cement floor easily, only for a hand to grab her leg just as she got her footing.

Again she screamed, clambering for something to get a hold on, only finding wood pallets in front of her. She groped at them, as he pulled her back, managing to dislodge her just as she saw a board. She desperately grabbed at it before swinging back hard enough to knock him off and knock him out.

Without half a thought, she got up and ran.

 

(-:-)

 

The sun had long since set outside as four Halliwell cousins continued going through the book. Phoebe was going through one of the other books in the trunk, looking at a listing of Warren history (non-magic, but it had confirmed that Penny Halliwell (Grams) had been a descendent of Melinda Warren from the spell book). Prue and Sam were going through the Book of Shadows quietly, and Dean had been on the phone for quite a while.

Piper had never picked up, so he instead had tried to call his dad. If anyone would know why Gram's had the book, he was their only probable source of information. Although, if he had known Grams was a witch, Dean was not eager to learn that his father had know about this all along. Similarly, he had called a friend of the family's, Bobby Singer. The man was the most seasoned hunter Dean was willing to call for help. If anyone knew about good witches, it would be him. Though he hadn't picked up, he had left a message. Roger tried calling, but Dean didn’t even listen to him for a few seconds before hanging up. Then he tried to call Piper again before heading back to the other room.

"No one is picking up," he sighed, pulling out a chair and putting down the phone. "But I left messages for Dad and Bobby to call back when they get a chance, and I told Roger to shove it when he called. What have you two found?"

Prue looked up, nodding, pleased at Dean’s reaction to Roger. "What it looks like is that we _were_ born with the powers, but Grams bound them," she said, a small twinge of 'maybe this is really happening' in her voice. "Sam hasn't found the incantation yet, but there are references here and there about it."

"Okay, so we find it, use one last bit of magic and move on with life," Dean said.

"Except," Phoebe interrupted. "I'm not binding my powers. Come on, Dean. What is so wrong about this?"

Dean scoffed. "What's wrong with this?" he echoed. "Phoebe, you don't know what you've gotten us into. Do you know what witches do?"

"I know I saved two boys from getting hit by a car earlier," Phoebe defended.

"Well that's _great_ ," Dean growled. "I nearly blew Erick's head off. What is this going to cost us Phoebe? Are animal sacrifices next on the list?"

Phoebe looked stunned at the mere idea of sacrifices. Sam bit his lip, and tried to stop his brother. "Dean..."

"'Cause guess what: that is what witches do. They sacrifice animals. They use corpse parts and-and where the hell did the power come from in the first place?"

"Dean," Sam tried again.

"Whatever demon you called to-"

"Dean!"

This time, Sam actually practically shouted, but it managed to get his brother's attention. They all turned to him, looking a bit concerned, but Sam just kept looking at Dean. "None of these spells mention animal sacrifices, and the spell Phoebe read doesn't name a demon at all."

Prue’s brow wrinkled at Sam’s declaration, confused that he sounded so matter of fact about it. She and Sam had been perusing the book at the same time and she hadn’t realized that Sam actually knew what he was looking for.

A look of disbelief went over Dean's face as he rounded the table.

"Lemme see," he said quickly. Sam flipped to the front, and after a few seconds, Dean added, "Well what's this _Ancient Power_ business?"

"Too ambiguous to be a single demon and _Oldest of Gods_ could just be calling on nature," Sam answered. "Plus, what witches have we seen that use powers like you guys have been? What if there's a kind of witch that have their own inherent power? Like, no demon needed?"

Prue looked at Phoebe in confusion.

"Then they wouldn't be witches. They...they'd be a creature, or a demon or spirit or something."

"Are you saying we're creatures?"

"I'm saying that these powers are coming from somewhere."

"Ah, guys," Prue interrupted. "Why do you seem to know so much about what's going on?"

Dean ignored her.

"Look," Sam continued. "Whatever is going on, it's nothing that dad has showed us."

Phoebe was the one that spoke up at that. "Dad?" she blurted. "Is he the one who gave you this witches are evil idea?!"

Dean looked back up at this, his brows lowering, and about to snap at her, but Sam gave him a severe glance. “Can we tell them now?”

“Tell us what?” Prue asked in a dangerously low voice.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. “And no, as soon as these ‘powers’ are gone, they don’t need to be involved.”

“Except,” Phoebe growled. “We aren’t getting rid of our powers. Dean-What are you keeping from us?”

For a few moments, Dean and Phoebe just kept glaring at each other, but Sam sought Prue’s eyes.

“Me and Dean,” he eventually started, “when we go hunting with our dad, we’re hunting monsters.”

Phoebe and Dean now looked to the youngest Halliwell, Phoebe’s expression softening a little.

“Some of the things we’ve hunted are in the book, actually,” he continued, moving back to the book, flipping through the pages. “Here: Wendigos. We got one of those two summers ago…and ghosts. We get them a _lot_ , only you can get rid of them without a potion or a spell like it says. Demons too, though I haven’t seen too many of those…”

There were a few seconds of quiet as Sam looked back up, before Dean coughed.

“We’ve also hunted witches.”

“Evil witches,” Sam interjected, though Dean paid him no mind.

“Usually you see it in stupid teenagers. Someone will find a book, and say a spell that promises their soul to a demon or to a pagan god,” Dean explained. “For their soul, there are perks: powers, money, good things happening in your life, and the demon gets your soul when you die. They generally require animal sacrifices for it to work, and every now and again, they choose to take revenge on good people with their ill gotten powers.”

“And you think that could be us?” Phoebe choked, appalled that her cousin could think she-they-could turn into monsters that needed to be hunted. “Dean-none of us want to hurt anyone.”

“Not now, but damn it, these powers are _not_ good. People don’t go into this wanting to hurt people, but eventually, they all do.”

“This isn’t like that!” Phoebe protested, standing up and shouting at him across the table. “This isn’t evil, Dean. _We_ are not evil, Grams-“

“You don’t know that!”

“And neither do you!” Phoebe shouted back before there was the rattling of a door knob. For a split second, Sam and Dean went tense, but then they heard a familiar voice.

“Prue?! Dean?!”

Phoebe’s eyes went a little wide, and without a second thought everyone rushed into the entry way where they saw Piper walking in, shaking and obviously terrified of something.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Phoebe blurted, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder, trying to console her though it obviously wasn’t going to work.

“Quick,” Piper said. “Lock the doors. Check the windows. Dean, please tell me you still have that gun…”

“What is it?” Dean blurted, his voice firm as his mind switched into hunting mode, ready to protect his family.

“It…it’s Jeremy,” Piper choked. “We don’t have a lot of time. Phoebe, in the book of shadows, did it say how to get rid of a…a warlock?”

“Son of a bitch…” Dean growled before immediately running upstairs to find guns for him and Sam.

The younger brother though was already grasping at Phoebe’s wrist. “There’s nothing for a warlock, but there is one that might work,” he said, starting to drag her away, the book under his free arm. “You lock down, we’ll set it up.”

“Forget that,” Prue growled as the two of them bounded upstairs. “I’m calling the cops.”

“And tell them what? That we’re witches?” Piper asked desperately. “That some freak with powers beyond comprehension is trying to kill us? Even if the cops did come, they’d be no match for Jeremy, and we’d be next!”

“Well sorry if I’m not quite ready to trust this to some spell just yet,” Prue growled, slamming the house phone back on the receiver, before Dean walked back down the stairs.

“Neither am I,” he said, tucking a pistol in his belt before cocking the shotgun in his hands. “Which is why we have guns. But Piper is right; we need to keep the cops out of this. It’ll only make everything more complicated.”

Just then, they heard Phoebe yell down to them from the attic, that they all needed to get up there. After making sure the rest of the house was locked up, the three of them all walked up the stairs, and weren’t entirely surprised to see Sam and Phoebe lighting a circle of candles. The book was sitting in the middle of a low table with what looked like a brass cauldron sitting in front of it.

“Alright,” Phoebe started to explain, waving Piper and Prue over to sit down as Dean crossed the room to stand sentry at the window. “We’ve placed the nine candles anointed with oils and spices in a circle…”

“Wait,” Piper interrupted, still a little on edge as she took a seat with her sisters and Sam. “I only count eight…”

“You forgot this one,” Sam muttered, pursing his lips as he held up a pink birthday candle, lighting it quickly before dropping it in the pot. “I think Grams was low on witch supplies…”

“Of course she was…” Prue grumbled.

Phoebe looked back at the spell and its directions. “Okay, now we need the poppet,” she said, before looking at Sam again, who held up a wax doll and handed it to Piper.

“What-what am I supposed to…” she stammered.

“That’s going to represent Jeremy,” Sam explained, also pulling up one of the roses he had had delivered the day before. “Press the flower and it’s thorns into the doll and recite the spell on the page we have opened.”

Piper swallowed hard, and looked down. She let out a breath, before doing as she was told. “You’re love will wither and depart from my life and my heart. Let me be, Jeremy, and go away forever…” she pursed her lips, pressing the thorn as firmly as possible into the doll before dropping the poppet into the cauldron on the table. There was a moment where nothing happened, and they all held their breath as smoke started to billow from the pot, and there was a sudden plume of flame. Everyone gaped, and even Dean had to look over from where he was avoiding the entire process at the window.

Phoebe sighed a little looking around. “Okay, the spell’s complete.” She said.

“Let’s hope it worked, though,” Dean grumbled, crossing the room anyway to hand Sam the shotgun, and to taking the pistol back out for himself.

Everyone started to stand, hoping like hell that at least this one bit of craziness was over. Piper, still shaking, worked with Prue to clean up the candles, while Phoebe went for the cauldron. But the second she touched the rim of the bowl, she gasped.

Just like before, images flooded into her head of Jeremy, covered in thorns, but certainly still moving. “Wait!” she blurted stopping everyone in their tracks. “It didn’t work!”

Piper’s eyes went wide, and she kept shaking just as she had before. “What?” she gulped.

“The spell, it didn’t work,” Phoebe repeated.

“How do you know?” Sam asked, his eyes going just as wide, holding the shotgun in his hands just a bit tighter.

“When I touched the pot, I had a…a flash,” Phoebe blurted. “I saw Jeremy. He’s on his way here.”

A trail of swears made its way out of Deans mouth as he ran back towards the stairs. He’d been skeptical, and he’d been right. Now the only thing he could think of was getting the girls and Sam out of there. He already had the keys to the Impala in his hands as he got to the door. “Come on.”

They made quick work of the stairs, Dean taking the lead and turning back to the girls as he opened the door. But as he started to tell them to take the Impala, there was Jeremy, standing in thorn covered terror. Piper and Phoebe shrieked. Dean spun around dodged backwards.

“Hello Kids,” Jeremy joked, stepping in.

Immediately, Prue put out her arms to shield Phoebe, Sam and Piper, while Dean held up the pistol. “You guys get out of here,” he growled, firing off the first shot. It pegged Jeremy in the shoulder, but the warlock just laughed. “Now!”

Prue looked back at the others. “Go!” she blurted, and they ran. She didn’t follow, though, instead talking to Dean. “And what the hell do you think you’re going to do?” She flicked her wrist, pushing Jeremy into the wall.

“Try to kill him maybe?” Dean growled, trying to shoot him again, but Jeremy then laughed, and raised his hand. Suddenly there was a cyclone of air between them, flinging Dean back hard, and letting the pistol go flying.

“Not by yourself you don’t!” Prue growled, as Jeremy tried to do the same to her, but getting a hold on her telekinesis, she managed to stay firmly in place.

“Cool parlor trick bitch,” Jeremy laughed. Prue knocked him back into a table, and just kept laughing. Prue could hear Phoebe, Sam and Piper yelling that they had to do something, but Prue just wanted them to stay where they were. “You two always were the tough ones…” Jeremy growled, before summoning a quicker burst of wind.

Dean, who had hardly managed to get back on his feet was promptly knocked back over, and was thrown into the sitting room. Prue had to brace herself against the stairs, and as pictures started falling off of the wall in the gust, Sam and Phoebe rushed back down, with Piper following hesitantly behind.

Prue screamed at them, but it was only lost in Jeremy’s cackling. Sam tried to fire off a shotgun blast from the stairs, but only succeeded in making a few dozen silver pits appear in Jeremy’s skin. For it, he sent a blast that knocked him and Phoebe from the stairs, losing the second gun they had on hand. Piper ducked down, bracing herself as best she could, putting her arms up to stop falling pictures from raining down on her family. Prue caught Phoebe and Sam from falling to the ground hard with her powers.

“Someone do something!” Prue gasped.

“What can we do?!” Dean yelled back from where he was braced against a dividing wall.

“The Book of Shadows said something,” Sam gasped, clinging to Phoebe where they had landed, “something about a power of three-“

“That would be helpful if we had the book!” Prue yelled.

Jeremy just continued cackling. “You think you can stop me?!” he shouted in a low, demonic voice. “Haven’t you witches figured it out?! Nothing can keep me from getting your powers!”

The wind started shaking the stair railing that Piper was hanging onto, and she screamed. Her freeze on all of the furniture let go, and paintings began flying around.

“Sammy! Duck!” Phoebe yelled, making Sam cover his head as a picture from the wall flew at him, and he ducked his head before the glass shattered over him.

Jeremy raised his hand again. “And this is only the beginning of what I can do!” he shouted, motioning towards Prue. Jeremy’s power ripped her away from where she was braced, and she flew across the room.

“Prue!” Dean shouted, untucking himself from the wall to try and catch her. He managed to get in her way, and he cushioned her fall, but as she knocked him down, his arms went flying, and a ripple of power flew towards the wall where there was suddenly a tiny explosion. Nothing caught fire, but as Dean sat up, Prue in his lap, he looked at his hands. The guns hadn’t worked, but maybe…

He stood up, moving into the other room as Jeremy moved through the torrential winds he had caused and moved towards Sam and Phoebe. “And the two of you,” he growled. “The two damned shall be first.” Jeremy started to kneel, but then Dean just flicked out his arm.

Jeremy didn’t even have a chance to look up at him before the flames began spreading from his gut, blowing him up from the inside out. The winds slowly came to a stop, dropping picture frames and old mail and Piper’s umbrella. Sam slowly got up, a little cut on the side of his face where he’d been clipped by a piece of junk mail. Piper shakily got up from the stairs, looking around nervously, and staring at Prue as she walked in from the other room.

Dean looked at the spot where Jeremy had just been. This was what he did, he hunted. But this didn’t feel anything like the victories he had taken with his dad. A gun, a banishing ritual, an exorcism hadn’t taken this guy out, and for some reason, that felt different. It felt like they were opening a door to something far more dangerous.

Even so, the five of them looked back at one another, and immediately rushed in to huddle together, because the five of them were all safe, and for right now, that was all they cared about.

 

(-:-)

 

When the morning came around, there was little left to remind them of what had happened the night before. There were a few pictures missing from the walls, all the frames being shattered, but all the debris had been cleared and the spell work had been cleaned up in the attic. Nothing remained of Jeremy in the front hall. It almost felt like a normal Saturday.

But it wasn't.

The five Halliwells now bumbled around in the kitchen. Dean sitting at the table, moving extra slow as he ate his bacon to be sure he didn't blow anyone up. Prue was looking over the newspaper, wondering when or if Jeremy would be reported missing. Phoebe was reading one of the other magic books Grams had stashed in the trunk, trying to figure out why Dean didn’t have telekinesis, time-stopping or premonition. And Piper was diligently continuing to make breakfast, trying not to look at the cat she had frozen when it had tried to jump on the counter. There was a burn scar on the wall, and none of them were about to forget that their lives were probably going to be like this for a while.

Sam was the only one that even seemed to be pretending everything was okay, but that might have been because he hadn't told anyone about the headache that had kept him awake for half the night.

"Why is there a cat in the house anyway?" Piper sighed as she made her way over to the table, loading off eggs onto everyone's plates.

"Someone must've left a window open," Prue shrugged, putting aside the newspaper as she took a sip of her coffee.

"I like her," Sam commented. He was sort of fond of animals, and they hadn't had a pet in the house since Gram's dog Rasputin had run away a few years ago.

"Probably not the best time to be getting a pet cat, Sammy," Dean muttered, not moving his hands at all from where they were resting in front of him. Piper made a face as there was another crashing sound, and they turned to see that the cat had unfrozen, and had knocked over the pepper shaker.

The others all laughed a little as she went to wrangle it, when there was the sound of tires outside. Prue was the first to look out the window, and was surprised to see a dark head of hair getting out. "Andy?" She muttered, before immediately standing up and rushing for the front door.

The three younger Halliwells all looked up with smiles. Dean and Phoebe even smiled at each other.

"Andy?" They question, salacious and devious tones in their voice as the three of them got up and rushed to look out the window of the sitting room.

"I didn't know he was back in town, too," Phoebe blurted, still smiling.

"Neither did I," Dean grumbled. "What do you think he's doing here?"

"He's gotta be asking her out," Sam said, sounding excited about it. "I mean why else?"

"Could be," a fourth voice muttered, Piper, coming in from the kitchen, "that he works for the police and wants to take us all in."

The three of them looked over at her, but the look on her face made it obvious enough that she was joking. So, Dean smiled and looked back out the window. "Nah. He's definitely asking her out."

Piper rolled his eyes. "I live in a house of twelve year olds..." she muttered before walking to the door, readjusting the cat in her arms before walking out to join Prue. Without hesitation, the other three were hot on her heels, happy, and unsurprised to see the sort of troubled look on Prue's face.

"So what was that all about?" the second sister asked with a smile in her face.

There were knowing grins coming from each of her family members, but Prue sighed and said it anyway. "He asked me out."

"Yes!" declared Dean, high-fiving Phoebe. Of any of the guys his cousins had dated, Andy was the only one he'd ever been sad hadn't worked out. "Please say you said yes."

"Well..." Prue began. "I started to say yes, and then I stopped. I wondered if I could date. I mean, do witches date?"

Suddenly, Dean and Phoebe's faces both contorted. "I sure as hell hope so," Dean grumbled, before heading inside.

Piper and Sam rolled their eyes, while Phoebe giggled, and raised her eyebrows suggestively before following. They all made their way towards the door.

"You guys will not be laughing when this happens to you," she pointed out, annoyed. "Everything is going to be different now."

"At least our lives won't be boring," Phoebe chimed.

"But they'll never be the same," Prue tried again.

"From where I'm standing," Phoebe continued, "that is not bad thing."

"It's not a good thing though," Dean chimed in. "I still say we get rid of it before it starts causing real problems..." He nodded over at where Andy was staring at them in confusion as he drove away.

"That," Piper said, suddenly taking her earlier comment a lot more seriously, "is a good point. What are we going to do?"

"Well-" Dean started, before Prue cut him off.

"We are going to be careful, we are going to be smart, and we a going to stick together."

Dean relaxed a little. "That I can get behind..." he muttered before tugging open the door, and ushering everyone in.

Piper smiled, and looked back at Prue with a smile. "This should be interesting," she said before walking inside.

Prue smiled, and got in last, considering just how right her sister was about that. She looked back to close the door, but paused when an idea came to her, and she smiled before looking up and shutting the door with her powers.

Interesting indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has a problem with my choice in Dean’s Powers, review/message me, and I will give you my reasoning. Not putting it here because it’s 5 paragraphs long, though there is a very slight explanation in the fourth episode, which will be posted eventually (its finished, I just need to read through it again).  
> If anyone would like to discuss my choice of making them cousins or keeping the boys as hunters, I’m free to talk about that too. Note that the boys are not charmed ones, which I go into more in episode 2.  
> Any other errors, please chalk up to the fact that I have no beta. I read through it like, 13 times before posting, but still, no beta. If you can point me in the direction of one, please let me know.


End file.
